About 18 months ago, I hopped on line, first thing, to see how Edloe was doing. As I looked at the picture of the empty collar, the treats and the candle, the tears came. Just a few days ago, I saw Piper's empty collar on her chair. Same reaction. Why? I've been a fan of the cats for a long time now, but I've never met them or Laurence. I hadn't really interacted with them much. Not at all, really, before I started cat-blogging. So I've been thinking about the depth of my reaction to their two deaths for quite some time. (please note that, for me, deep thinking isn't so much oceanic as it is, perhaps, wet-pavement-y)
For me, it boils down to this: connection.
Laurence's relationships with his cats has been, and is, a wonderful thing to behold. Their personalities, foibles, and gifts have come through miles of wire intact, as has the love and affection of the humans they live with. The thought I have arrived at through all my observations is a simple one. Lair's relationship with his cats is remarkable, not for what it says about his cats and their obvious love and trust of him, but for what it says about him. And more: what it says about us; as cat-owners, cat bloggers, and as humans.
(you said "connection", you dip)(hang in there, trust me)
All humans have a need to be loved. We go after it, and succeed or not in, what seems to many, a scattershot manner. We hope to be loved unconditionally. Most of us find a close, plural approximation of that as we grow, relate, marry, reproduce, find feline friends along the way. But I think most of us know that that love is, in most healthy cases, conditional. Now, we might have to descend to Manson-esque levels to find the trigger that will cost us that love, but we know it's there. I have no doubt that, were I to consistently mistreat Maddie or Ivy, they would find a way out of here, toot-sweet. Same with my wife. Laurence has been very good to his cats, and he's been, I'm sure, forgiven the little vexations a cat has to put up with. Maddie and Ivy have been very good to me, forgiving me pills, liquid squirty-meds in the mouth, a spray in the face when bad behavior rears its furry head.
I'm sure all good cat owners know what I'm talking about.
(Dude!) (hang on, I'm getting there)
What humans also have, though, is a need to love. Unconditionally. We have witnessed, on IFOC, at the Carnival, and more recently on Catcall, one man sharing a blinding, unconditional, utterly faithful love of his cats. And he's shared it with us. I cannot conceive of Laurence's love of his cats being conditioned on how cute they could be, how appropriately snuggly they were, or how they didn't scratch where they weren't supposed to. I think *nothing* the IFOC cats could do would cost them an iota of Laurence's love. He might get get upset and threaten to replace them with a USB-cat, but we all know how much weight that threat would have. (wait-did I say USB-cat? hmmmm)
This is the connection I feel with Mr Simon. The connection I believe we have all shared.
Maddie and Ivy have drawn enough of my blood to be registered phlebotomists. I love them. Maddie has run across my head at two in the morning. Ivy meows loudly (at the same hour) to get us to come rushing into the sitting room, just for headpats. I love them. I hope that when that awful, inevitable day comes, my girls will know that they have been loved. Simply for being who they are. Just like Piper and Edloe.
The desire, the need, to love unconditionally is at once a universal, yet breath-takingly intimate condition. I would like to thank Laurence for having the courage and the generosity to share his love for his cats with us. He's been the backbone of the cat-blogging phenomenon, and he has created a connection between each of us that have shamelessly displayed our love for our cats (and each others cats) over the web.
We know that we are not alone in this particular quirk we share. We feel the ties that bind us, though we will probably never meet to shake hands or hand out an extra kitty treat to a cat we've been a fan of for a long time. But we are all connected. We know there are others like us. This is a great gift.
Thank you, Laurence. We are sorry for your loss. We wish many happy years to come with Frisky and Nardo. We are grateful that you shared your cats with us. That you took it upon yourself to joyously point out that we, humans and cats alike, can be connected, invisibly, to others all around the world.
But, of course, you're still so full of crap your eyes are brown.
It may look like a red blob, but it's really Maddie's Papasan! Maddie spends more time in this chair than in any other chair in the house. We were amazed that old, none-too-steady-on-her-pins Ivy could actually get up into it. Fortunately, no <ahem> issues arose from this. Maddie simply hopped back in and reclaimed her spot once Ivy had enjoyed it enough.
Perhaps this is the harbinger of peace to come. Don't mind cat opera as long as I feel there is no real threat of violence. 
Nobody's looking? TREE WATER! WOOHOO! And to all, a Good Night!
Recent Comments